


Second Chance

by bluedragoninamber



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: A little angst, AU continuation/remix of another story, Changing the Code, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Families of Choice, Food Fight, Forgiveness, Gen, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Jedi Trials, Jedi cheerfully breaking the Code, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), OC (minor character), OOC, Oppo Rancisis was Yaddle's padawan (that's canon), Other, Padawan Braids, Pranks, Snowball Fight, The entire Council has an orgy (or something like it), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Wish Fulfillment, Written with permission of author, Yoda has a sweet tooth and he's not the only one, adults who grew up too soon, knighting celebration, pairings you probably won't see anywhere else, recreating childhood, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7102957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/pseuds/bluedragoninamber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tahl's death, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Mace, Bant, Dooku, and Yoda get a second chance to get everything right.</p><p>*This story is an AU continuation/remix of another story, "Comfort" by Inkognito97.  Please read that one first or this one will make no sense.  See below for the link.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inkognito97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkognito97/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Comfort](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6823486) by [Inkognito97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkognito97/pseuds/Inkognito97). 



** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This is a gift for Inkognito97. This story is set loosely in the EU of the Jedi Apprentice series and takes place after the events of The Call to Vengeance. It is an AU continuation/remix of their story “Comfort” and is being written with their permission. Please read “Comfort” first because this story immediately follows the end of it. I am creating canon regarding Mace Windu’s background with the Council. I have also changed Inkognito97’s story by establishing that Master Dooku, not Master Yoda, was Qui-Gon Jinn’s master, and Yoda was Dooku’s master. I have created Shatel, an OC, to be Mace Windu’s master (Master Yoda was not his master here). In this AU, padawans without hair on their heads wear braided bracelets instead of hair braids. I have no clue how old everyone is here except that Obi-Wan and Bant are sixteen. Qui-Gon and Mace are the same age, and Dooku is still young enough to have black hair (assuming that he was knighted at eighteen and took Qui-Gon as his padawan very soon afterward). Hey, it’s a story, so please don’t fuss over the details. **

**I don’t write crack very well, but this story was originally meant to be cracky. Maybe it still is. Or maybe, it turned into fluff, silliness, absurdity, sweetness (of various kinds), and of course, a little angst (because I can’t seem to write a story without it). There may be relationships later, but I haven’t decided yet. The rating may also change. Warning for OOC characters, Jedi cheerfully breaking the Code, randomness, and a weak attempt at a plot. I’m writing several stories right now that are so emotionally draining that I needed a more cheerful story to balance it out. That’s where this one is heading.**

            Something was bothering her new master. Bant had always been perceptive, and she had always known when Master Tahl was upset or concerned about something. Her bond with Master Windu was new but very strong. That meant, however, that she was able to sense a great deal from him, even with his strong shields. He had promised to keep the bond mostly unshielded between them, and he was fulfilling that promise. Thus, it was glaringly obvious that something was distressing Master Windu.

            They had just returned to their quarters after their visit with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. To say that Bant was amused by Obi-Wan’s unusual solution to supporting his master was an understatement. But Master Jinn had looked so pleased and proud that it was clear it was an excellent idea. And she knew that, with Master Yoda and Master Windu involved, the Council would absolutely expect Obi-Wan’s weekly “reports.” She decided that she would remind Obi-Wan of that the next time she saw him.

            Master Windu had seemed both amused and pleased for both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. But now, as Bant made tea and Master Windu silently laid out lunch on the table, Bant wondered if there was something he was feeling that he was shielding from her. She ate her meal, watching her master covertly. By the time they were both finished, Bant decided that she needed to have a talk with her master.

            “Master, is everything alright?” she asked as they pulled out the mats to prepare for meditation.

            His brown eyes were guarded. “Of course, Bant. Everything is fine.”

            They had only been master and padawan for a few days, but one of Bant’s particular talents was telling when people were lying. She knew immediately that Master Windu was.

            She narrowed her eyes and frowned at him. “Master, when we bonded, you promised me that you wouldn’t lie to me. Are you certain that you want to break that promise now?”

            Her master looked as though he would deny it…and then he sat down on the couch with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. She sat down beside him and clasped his hand in hers. He smiled wanly but did not pull his hand away.

            “I’m sorry, Bant. It’s not you. This whole situation has brought up things in my past that I would rather forget.” His brown eyes were sad, and Bant felt his pain through their bond.

            “Master, I won’t make you talk about it, but I’m here if you want to,” she said, stroking his hand reassuringly.

            Master Windu was quiet for a moment, staring at their joined hands. “I was knighted at sixteen,” he said softly.

            Bant’s eyes widened. “Sixteen! Obi-Wan and I are only sixteen! We won’t even be of age for two more years!”

            Her master continued to stare at their hands. “Many people think that Master Yoda was my master. He has been something of a mentor to me. That much is true. But he was never my master. He and I never shared a training bond.”

            Bant asked softly. “What happened, Master?”

            Master Windu leaned back against the couch, his eyes lifting to stare at a point well above Bant’s head. She waited silently, not letting go of his hand. He clung to it as he told his story.

            “I was just barely sixteen when my master was killed. His name was Shatel. He was a native of Coruscant and a human. We were on a mission in the Outer Rim, trying to negotiate a peace treaty on a planet that had one faction that was virulently anti-Jedi. We were both infected with a deadly virus, and that faction did so intentionally. The other faction tried to save us, but there was no antidote. Jedi training was insufficient to purge the virus from our systems. I was young and strong. I survived.” Mace swallowed hard, and Bant began to stroke his hand again. “My master was older. He died in my arms.”

            Bant had her arms around Mace, pulling him into an embrace, before he had a chance to protest. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug, and she felt his shoulders shaking even though his eyes were dry.

            At last, Mace pulled away. “I returned to the Temple with his body and an abruptly broken training bond. I was certainly not the first padawan to lose a master unexpectedly. There was a well-established precedent for dealing with the situation and passing me onto another master to complete my training.”

            Bant prodded gently when he stopped. “But that’s not what happened, is it?”

            Mace’s eyes were distant. “No. The Temple was in crisis mode, overwhelmed by the number of planets in need of Jedi help. There were masters who could have taken me on and would have done so gladly. But for one of those rare times, Master Yoda was helping deal with a situation on another planet. The temporary grandmaster decided that none of the available masters could be spared to deal with a padawan in my situation. He was aware of my talent for administration and organization…and the Temple desperately needed someone to handle routine administrative tasks while everyone else was on missions. Adding to that, my master had been on the Council himself.”

            Bant put her hand to her mouth. “I think I can guess where this is going.”

            Mace nodded absently. “In Yoda’s absence, his temporary stand-in made the decision to excuse me from my Trials, to knight me, and to assign me as the Temple Administrator. He cut my braid, a bracelet like the one that you wear, immediately after the Council was compelled to fall in line with his decision. They weren’t all in favor of it, but they had more important things to worry about. I put my braid into the hands of my old master just before I lit his pyre. It burned with him. It seemed fitting somehow. Barely were Shatel’s ashes cold before I was up to my neck in my new duties.”

            Bant sighed. “Did you even get a knighting celebration? Anything at all to mark the moment?”

            Mace chuckled, but there was little humor in it. “I wasn’t even of age to legally drink, though the Jedi tend to look the other way about that sort of thing since we can so easily purge the effects of the alcohol. But my friendships had all been disrupted, even my friendship with Qui-Gon, who was still Master Dooku’s padawan and would remain so for four more years. Just like you and Obi-Wan, he and I were both sixteen.” He sighed. “Six months into my assignment as Temple Administrator, I was raised to my old master’s place on the Council. I hadn’t even had a padawan yet, but they named me a master anyway. And that’s how I became a member of the Jedi Council before I even came of age.” He smiled slightly, but his eyes were haunted. “They told me it was the will of the Force and for the greater good. They told me that my old master would be so proud of me. I realized later that they simply needed someone to fill the empty spot on the Council, and I was the only candidate who, being underage, had no recourse to protest. Expediency won out.”

            Bant could do nothing but stare in shock. “That’s inexcusable! Surely, Master Yoda intervened when he returned?”

            Mace’s expression gentled. “He did try. He was…well, he was definitely disappointed in the actions of the Council in his absence. He pointed out that he himself would gladly have taken me on as his padawan if the Council would have waited. But by the time he returned, I was seventeen and had been on the Council for half a year. There was simply no way to undo what had already been done.”

            Mace rubbed his forehead. “To his credit, he did become something like my mentor, taking me under his guidance to help me understand how the Council worked and how to go about making such huge decisions as I was being called upon to make. I was grateful for that because frankly, I was terrified of the power and the responsibility that I suddenly had. I was a teenager still, caught up in all the turmoil that usually includes. But I had to grow up very fast and put away all my remaining childishness to become the adult that the Council expected me to be.” He paused and then admitted quietly. “Mentor though Yoda was, he did not offer me what I wanted most…a training bond. I desperately wanted that stabilizing connection with a master, any master, again. But when I asked him, he said that he couldn’t because it might undermine my standing with the Council.”

            Bant realized something. “Is that why you seem so reticent around Master Dooku? Master Yoda was his master, after all.”

            Mace nodded. “Yes, that’s why. Master Dooku is a fine man and a fine Jedi.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t be jealous of him, but I am. He and Yoda never broke their training bond, and they remain a part of each other’s lives. He got the bond with Yoda that I never had. Until you, Depa had been my only padawan. She had to take the initiative to break my training bond with her because I didn’t want to. It hurt more than I cared to admit. I knew that she needed to be independent from me, but I didn’t want to let her go and be alone again.”

            Bant smiled sadly. “Tell me the truth, Master. Is that the reason you took me as your padawan? To fill the emptiness inside you?”

            Mace’s shock was clear, and Bant breathed a sigh of relief, realizing by his reaction that the truth was not what she’d feared before her master even replied.

            “No, Bant, absolutely not! Please don’t think that. I would never use you like that.” He hesitated and then reached out to tip her face up so he could look in her eyes. “I cared about Tahl very much, and I care about you. Besides Qui-Gon, Tahl was my closest friend. I was not about to let you go into the hands of strangers. And I was definitely not about to let what happened to me with the Council happen to you.”

            Bant’s eyes widened. “Do you think they’d do that again?”

            Her master’s brown eyes flashed with anger. “The man who led the Council during that time rejoined the Force years ago. Under Master Yoda’s watch, I don’t think it would. But I was not about to take any chances with you.”

            Bant looked surprised. “You don’t trust the Council? Master, you are on the Council.”

            He sighed. “They are not bad people. Some of them are very good people. But many of them are easily swayed, and some of them are far too confident in their own wisdom.”

            They lapsed into silence for a time after that, Bant trying to digest all of her master’s revelations and Mace trying, unsuccessfully, to release his unsettled emotions to the Force.

            Finally, Bant stirred and asked. “Master, what things do you feel like you missed out on the most because of the Council’s actions?”

            The question caught Mace unaware. He considered for a moment, absently leaning back against Bant’s arm that was draped behind him, resting on the couch cushions.

            “Specific things? I never took my Trials, so I’ve never really felt worthy of the title of knight, much less of master.” His face darkened in what Bant knew to be a blush as he said, “I never had a knighting celebration. I suppose it shouldn’t matter, but it still bothers me. I ought to have had at least one night in my life when I didn’t have to be the perfect responsible Council member.”

            His face darkened further. “I never had the chance to be defiant, even one moment of disobedience.” His eyes were wistful. “Master Dooku was like that when he was young, or so Yoda told me. Trying to out-Jedi the Jedi, or so Yoda calls it. Master Yoda had to work to break him of it. Apparently, he still has to sometimes…but it’s a process that they both enjoy. Sometimes, I wish I knew just how he does that. I envy them all, Yoda, Dooku, Qui-Gon…Obi-Wan…you. Mavericks all of you in ways that I can never be.” He dropped his eyes to his folded hands. “I want a bond in my mind that I don’t have. Do you know that the shredded, shattered, broken ends of my bond with Shatel still hurt? It would be wonderful to have something in my own mind besides loneliness and old pain.”

            Bant took his hand and drew it across the padawan braid on her wrist.

            “I’ll do my best, Master. But if you’re willing, I think I know something that might help at least a little.” He watched her curiously as she got up and went into her bedroom. She came out carrying a small bag that Mace recognized as belonging to Tahl. It had been given to Bant upon Tahl’s death.

            With great care, Bant opened the bag and pulled out an assortment of slender, colorful lengths of leather and a handful of beads. Smiling at her master who watched her, speechless, she slipped a tie around his wrist, measuring the proper length. Then she picked two other ties and began to braid the three of them together to make a bracelet very similar to the one she wore. Bant looked at the assortment of beads and found herself drawn to one in particular.

            Lifting it up for him to look at, she said happily, “It’s the exact purple of your lightsaber.” She slipped the bead onto the bracelet and then knelt on the floor in front of him.

            “Mace Windu, will you do me the honor of becoming my padawan learner?”

            He looked blankly at her for a moment and then he remembered “Master Kenobi” claiming “Padawan Jinn” earlier that day. His heart filled up, and unexpected tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He blinked them back as well as he could.

            “I would be honored, Master Eerin,” he managed to say, even as he extended his wrist to her.    

            Bant fastened the bracelet securely. “I will have to meet with Master Yoda tomorrow to get Council approval, but I don’t think we will have any difficulties, Padawan Windu.”

            Mace reached down and drew her into his arms, embracing her and burying his head against her shoulder. His tears did fall then, but Bant just let him cry, rocking him the best she could with their size difference. As she rocked him, she sang to him in her own language. Mace didn’t understand the words, but he knew he’d never felt safer than he did in that moment. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, and Bant, after Force-calling a blanket to cover them, followed him.


	2. Rebuffed

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: Bant is an amphibious humanoid species that can also live on land, but she needs to swim at least once a day to maintain her health.**

            Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had fallen asleep on the couch as well, and the morning saw them in a rush, though a smiling rush, to get to their various activities. Obi-Wan finally managed to see Bant at lunch time, and she was beaming. He couldn’t help but smile too.

            “What’s made you so happy, Bant?” Obi-Wan asked.

            She giggled. “I’m so glad that you came up with that idea yesterday of taking your master as your padawan. I did the same thing last night!”

            Obi-Wan gaped at her. “You’re kidding! Master Windu let you do that?”

            She sighed, and her smile slipped a little. “He needed it. He wanted it. Let me tell you what he told me last night.”

            Obi-Wan listened to the story in outright shock. “The Council did that? To a sixteen-year-old who had just lost his master?” He shook his head. “I can understand now why Master Windu often seems so stiff and stoic. He never got the chance to be a teenager. The Council took everything fun away from him and dumped everything serious on his shoulders.”

            Bant nodded. “He’s so determined to be the best master to me that he can, and I know he’ll be a great one.” She sighed. “But you know what, Obi-Wan? I wish I could find some way to give him back at least a little of what the Council took from him. After all the good he’s done, doesn’t he deserve a bit of fun?”

            Obi-Wan smiled. “Definitely. Maybe if we talk to my master, we can figure something out. Even Master Yoda might want to be involved. I bet he feels guilty for letting the Council get away with all that.”

            Bant laughed. “And Master Yoda is mischievous in his own right. How many times have there been pranks that he admitted to being right in the middle of? I bet he’d love to help. I’ve got to talk to Master Yoda anyway, so I can get approval for my having taken Master Windu as my padawan.” She giggled again. “You realize that we really are going to have to report to the Council every week about our masters, don’t you?”

            Obi-Wan laughed. “I know, and I’m actually looking forward to it. How else can we prove to our padawans that we’re serious about this?”

            Bant nodded. “Point taken. Hey, why don’t you and Qui-Gon join us an hour before dinner? My master and I are going for a swim, and then maybe we can have dinner together.”

            “I’ll have to ask my master, but I’m sure he’ll agree. He mentioned last night wanting to spend more time with your master. The two of them are best friends, after all,” Obi-Wan said.

            “Closer to brothers, I think,” Bant said. “So let’s plan to meet for saber practice, and then we can go right over to the pool.”

            “Agreed,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll see you then.”

            Meanwhile, Mace was sharing a leisurely lunch with Qui-Gon.

            Qui-Gon grinned at him as he fingered the padawan bracelet on Mace’s wrist.

            “I’m so glad that Bant decided to do that. You need it at least as much as I do.” He fidgeted with his own braid. “Face it, Mace. Our padawans are sometimes wiser than we are.”

            Mace grinned. “I don’t deny that.” His smile slipped. “Bant knows now about what the Council did to me. I suspect that she has already told Obi-Wan.”

            Qui-Gon reached across the table to clasp his friend’s hand. “Hey, Mace, it’s alright. I’m sure he’ll be shocked, but he definitely won’t hold it against you.” His expression turned pensive. “And until now, you hadn’t even told me all of it. I still regret that I can’t give you back what they took from you. But I am glad that Master Dooku was not part of the Council at the time. Now I understand better why you’ve always been so stiff around my him. I never realized you were jealous of my master.”

            Mace sighed. “It’s embarrassing really. I’m a member of the Council and still subject to such childish jealousy.” He paused. “I respect your master very highly. I would like to get to know him better. Even though we sit on the Council together, I hardly know him.” Mace blushed slightly. “And I admit to being very curious about what exactly Master Yoda does with him that he needs so much. Yoda has never told me anything.”

            Qui-Gon smiled. “My master has never told me either. But he’s off on a mission right now, as he’s been for the past months. I really need to tell him about what’s happened. He knows Tahl died, but he doesn’t know about this.” He gestured to his braid.

            Just then, his com beeped. Qui-Gon checked the message and then looked over at Mace.

            “That’s Obi-Wan. It seems that Bant has invited him and me to join you in a swim followed by dinner. I’m available if you’re willing,” Qui-Gon said.

            Mace nodded. “That sounds like a great idea.”

            Several hours later, they were relaxing in Mace’s quarters, having just finished their swim. They were preparing to go to dinner when the door signal beeped.

            To their surprise, Master Yoda and Master Dooku stood in the doorway.

            Startled out of politeness, Qui-Gon said, “I didn’t know that you were coming back today.”

            Dooku nearly took a step back. His padawan hadn’t even used a name or title for him. Trying to gather himself, Dooku glanced at Qui-Gon.

            “I didn’t know that things were finally going to wrap up a few days ago. I heard of Tahl’s death, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to return until today.” He eyed his padawan’s face. “Qui-Gon, since when do you wear a padawan braid?”

            Qui-Gon laughed and grinned at Obi-Wan. “Since my padawan took me as his padawan.” He glanced at Mace who obligingly raised his wrist, displaying his own padawan bracelet. “And then Bant had the excellent idea to do the same for my brother.”

            Mace smiled at Qui-Gon, and Dooku wondered when the two men had gotten to the point that they called each other brothers.

            Dooku found himself suddenly searching for a correct response. “I offer my sincere congratulations to you all.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

            Qui-Gon smiled at the three others sitting at the table, completely ignoring him.

            “If you’ll excuse us please, we were preparing for dinner,” Qui-Gon said.

            Though no one else noticed, Master Yoda saw the flash of pain that passed over Dooku’s face at his padawan’s obvious dismissal.

            “Very well then. Have a pleasant meal,” Dooku said. No one seemed to take any notice of him as he left the room, Master Yoda beside him.

            “Come, Padawan,” the elder master said soothingly. “After eating, feel better you will. Talk, we will.” More softly, Yoda said, “Distracted, they were. Harm, they did not intend. Pain from this, you should not take.”

            One look in Dooku’s eyes told Yoda that his padawan hadn’t heard a word he’d said.


	3. Lessons

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: There is a memory/flashback in this chapter that is in italics. I have no clue what Yoda wears under his robe, but for this story, he wears pretty much the same clothes as the other Jedi…just smaller. Also, warning for pure absurdity ahead…Yoda being delightfully childish, a teenage Dooku in a food fight with Yoda, an adult Dooku in a food fight with Yoda, and teeth-rotting sentimental fluff at the end.**

            Dooku only picked at his food and politely refused to touch the heaping bowl of sweet dessert that came with it. Yoda raised his ears at that, well aware of just how much his padawan loved this particular dessert…in more ways than one. In fact, Yoda had chosen the dessert for exactly that reason.

            “Not hungry, are you? Not even your favorite dessert, you want?” Yoda asked.

            Dooku put down his fork. “Thank you, Master, but no. After so many months away from the Temple managing on ration bars and protein cubes, I am unused to it.”

            Dooku exuded restlessness, and the reunion with his padawan and grandpadawan earlier had not helped. Yoda knew Dooku had been pleased to see that Qui-Gon was being well-supported by the rather unorthodox arrangement of becoming a padawan again to, of all people, his own padawan. Yoda had not been surprised to find that Bant had done the same for Mace. Yoda admitted freely that he was glad of it. He still carried guilt over the pain he had caused Mace.

            But Dooku, for all his confidence, could be very unsure of his place when it came to relationships. Yoda knew that Qui-Gon and the others had hurt Dooku, albeit unintentionally, by seeming to exclude Dooku from their little family. Dooku had never tolerated exclusion well, and truthfully, Yoda didn’t either. The situation would be fixed because Yoda knew that Qui-Gon had simply not realized how Dooku would read his words and actions. A gentle word in his ear tomorrow would reconcile them all to each other. Yoda knew that Qui-Gon did crave his master’s presence and did yearn for a renewal of the bond that he and Dooku had once shared. Selfishly, Yoda admitted to hoping that they would welcome him as well, since Dooku was not the only one feeling lonely and excluded.

            But that was tomorrow. Tonight was for renewing his ties to his own padawan. And he knew just what Dooku needed, what he always needed, after a slew of solitary missions on which he had been forced to out-Jedi the Jedi. Yoda needed to break him out of the cage he’d put himself in, and there was one absolutely certain way to do that. Dooku was an inherently prudish man, his appearance and behavior always perfect. Before being brought to the Temple, the small child had been raised in an exceedingly strict household with no allowances made for the silliness of even the youngest children. He had never been allowed to play. The crèche had not managed to break him of that, and, by the time Yoda took him as his padawan, the stiff, stoic child was on the cusp of becoming a stiff, stoic adolescent.

            There had been no padawan silliness with Dooku. Dooku’s disagreements with Yoda were always grave and always over serious matters like Jedi philosophy and teachings. The other padawans got into all the usual trouble with pranks and jokes but not Dooku. He held himself aloof from it all, and while Yoda appreciated the lack of embarrassment caused by his padawan, he worried that Dooku would never learn to bend enough to even find humor in daily life, the kind of humor which helped keep Jedi going when the world went mad. He also worried that Dooku would never be able to tolerate the mischievousness of a padawan of his own.

            _But that worry had eased, quite by accident, when Dooku was thirteen. Yoda remembered exactly what had happened. There had been a food fight among the padawans at lunch, and it had spread to the point that even their masters had been dragged into it quite willingly. The only reason Yoda knew about it was because Dooku had slipped out of the room immediately and reported the situation to him. Yoda had surprised Dooku by allowing the fun to continue for a time before forgoing reprimands and opting simply to make those involved help with the clean-up._

_Yoda ate dinner with Dooku in their quarters that evening. He watched as Dooku did little but push his food around his plate. He suspected that he knew what was preoccupying his padawan, but he was unsure how to approach it. He finally decided the direct approach was best._

_“To participate in the food fight today, you did not want?” Yoda asked._

_Dooku’s startled glance met Yoda’s own. “Master, they were out of line, and I would never embarrass you in such a childish fashion.”_

_Yoda sighed. “Answer my question, you did not. Wanted did you, to join them?”_

_Dooku glanced away. Yoda gentled his tone and continued, “Enjoyed playing with you like that, I would have.”_

_Dooku went from startled to shocked. “But you’re the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order!”_

_Yoda sighed again. Perhaps he had not done enough to teach his padawan how to play if the boy was still convinced that he himself never played._

_“Grandmaster I am, but youngling, I once was. Forgotten, I have not.” He paused. “Jedi life, hard it is. To laugh, to play, necessary it is. To bend, lest we break.”_

_Dooku shook his head. “No, Master. Rules are rules, not suggestions. You have told me this yourself.”_

_Yoda rubbed his forehead. “Important rules, yes. But to the Dark Side, a food fight will not lead.”_

_Dooku came perilously close to a chuckle and did at least crack a small smile. “I suppose you have a point there.”_

_Yoda smiled back. “Now ask you again, I will. To participate in the food fight, did you wish?”_

_Dooku glanced down at his hands. He was silent for a time. Finally, he answered._

_“Yes, I did…very much.” Dooku’s face was red._

_Yoda said quietly. “Then participate, why didn’t you? For your true reasons, I ask.”_

_“Because I don’t know how!” The words came out more vehemently than either of them had expected. “I never learned, Master! I never learned how to play, and I simply had no idea how to join in.” He sighed. “They wouldn’t have believed it if I had.” Dooku smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Do you know that my nickname among the padawans is Dooku the Prude?”_

_Yoda flattened his ears, displeased. “Call you that, they should not.”_

_Dooku shrugged. “It’s true. It seems only right that I should have been the one today to inform the authorities.” He slumped in his chair, an uncharacteristic pose for him. “Sometimes I think that the Force willed my existence so that I can be the official spoiler of fun for the rest of my life.” He rubbed his forehead in unconscious imitation of his master. “I don’t know how to be anyone else…I wish I did,” he said softly. “This world is such an unhappy place to me.”_

_Yoda’s ears flattened completely. “To speak like that, I do not wish to hear you.”_

_Again, Dooku shrugged. “As I said before, it is true. I am nothing if not honest, Master.”_

_Yoda studied his dour padawan, turning over in his mind what to do. The resolution he decided on would be startling, even shocking, to the boy. But as he had told Dooku, he would have enjoyed flinging food at him earlier…and getting covered in it himself. Grandmaster or not, he had always enjoyed a bit of harmless mischief. And if his padawan needed to be taught, it was Yoda’s responsibility to teach him._

_“Teach you this then, I will.” The comment made Dooku glance up from his hands._

_“Trust me, you will?” Yoda continued._

_Dooku’s eyes widened slightly. “Of course, Master. My trust in you has never been a question.” He frowned. “Everything else, however, is up for debate.”_

_Despite his concern for his padawan, Yoda felt a rush of affection for the boy that he did not hesitate to send across their bond. Dooku blushed, sending back the same, and for a moment, Yoda could see the child under his aloof facade. If Yoda had his way, it would be that child who would be coaxed out tonight._

_“Stand up and remove your robe, belt, outer clothing, and boots, you will. On the floor, eyes closed, you will sit,” Yoda ordered._

_Dooku obeyed immediately, neatly folding his robe and laying it over the back of the couch with Yoda’s own. His belt, outer tunic, and other garments followed along with his lightsaber, and then he removed his boots, leaving him barefoot. Wearing only his inner tunic and leggings, he sat down on the floor, closing his eyes._

_Yoda too had stripped to his inner tunic and leggings. He smiled at Dooku. Such an obedient child…he knew the boy would be shocked by what was going to happen next, but he suspected that they would both enjoy it. Using a light touch of the Force, he pinned Dooku in place, just enough so that he would not be able to get up. The boy tensed slightly, then relaxed, and Yoda was pleased to feel him releasing his anxiety to the Force…most of it at least._

_Yoda grinned, using the Force to lift a number of large bowls down to the floor from a cabinet. He had suspected, after what had happened earlier, that he might have need of them, and the Temple kitchens had been happy to indulge their Grandmaster who was known to have a sweet tooth. But he wouldn’t be eating the dessert that was inside them. Yoda doubted that either he or Dooku would be eating the sweet, almost liquid, chocolate caramel pudding that they both loved. And Dooku was about to find out why._

_Deciding that simple would be the best way to start, Yoda picked up a bowl and walked over to his padawan. Chuckling, he tipped the bowl, letting the pudding creep over the side to pour slowly down Dooku’s tunic and pool in his lap._

_Dooku’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, he was speechless as he watched Yoda pouring the mess over him._

_“Master?” he finally managed to say. “What by all the stars are you doing?”_

_Yoda laughed. “To learn to play, you said you needed. Teaching you how, I am.” He released the Force hold on the boy and smiled, offering the bowl to him in obvious invitation._

_Dooku sat there for a moment, still dumbfounded. Brown eyes wide, he glanced down at himself, running his fingers through the mess now soaking and staining his clothes and dampening his skin. A smile slowly spread across his face as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Something hard and unyielding in Dooku finally broke. With a grin, the boy grabbed the half-full bowl and eyed Yoda._

_“Master, would you like some dessert?” he asked innocently._

_Yoda grinned and sat down on the floor. “Oh yes! Want it, I do!”_

_Dooku threw back his head and laughed, a carefree laugh that made Yoda rejoice…just before Yoda got his just desserts. He laughed as his padawan tipped the bowl over him, ruining his clothes and covering his tunic and leggings with the sweet mess. Dooku was laughing so hard by this point that tears streamed down his cheeks, and he dropped to his knees on the floor, pulling his sticky master into a hug, a rare gesture from Dooku that Yoda cherished._

_“Thank you,” he whispered, and then, to Yoda’s further delighted surprise, he kissed his master’s cheek._

_Yoda reached for their bond even as he stroked the boy’s face._

_“Love you, I do, Padawan.” He sent a surge of affection over the bond, and Dooku sent back the same._

_“Love you too, Master,” he whispered. His smile turned mischievous, an expression that Yoda had never seen on Dooku’s face before. Then he grabbed another bowl._

_“Want to play some more?” he asked._

_Yoda grinned. “Play more, we shall.”_

_Dooku handed the bowl over to Yoda. “Over my head,” Dooku asked politely._

_Yoda found himself laughing again at his padawan’s excellent manners even while Yoda poured the mess over Dooku’s head, coating his hair and practically obliterating his braid. Dooku licked his lips and laughed._

_Over the next hour, they alternately poured and threw the mess over each other, totally abandoned to their play, until the bowls were empty and they were exhausted._

_Dooku shifted so that Yoda was sitting more or less in his lap._

_Yoda shoved his padawan’s sticky hair back, and cradled his chin. “Learned your lesson, you have?”_

_Dooku smiled, steadying his master with his hands on his back. “For the moment, but I might just need you to teach it to me again sometime.”_

_Yoda laughed. “Anytime, I will teach you.”_

_They had a mess to clean up, both themselves and the room. But this time was theirs._

            Yoda pulled himself from his memories to find Dooku watching him bemusedly.

            “I never would have thought that I’d see the day when your shielding would slip, Master,” Dooku said, shaking his head. “Do you realize that you were broadcasting all of that to me?”

            Yoda’s ears drooped. “Distracted, I was, Padawan. Sorry, I am.”

            Dooku shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t mind.” He eyed the bowl of dessert on the table. “I wouldn’t object to playing with you.” He sighed. “I’m feeling rather lost right now.”

            Yoda smiled gently. “Well tomorrow, all will be. Your padawan, unaware of his words he was. A reminder, he needs. Reconciled, you will all be.” His smile became a grin. “But ours, tonight is, my padawan. Renew our bond, you wish to?”

            Dooku laughed. “Of course. Tell me, does it involve you dumping that bowl of chocolate caramel over my head, like you did that very first time…and have done so many times since?”

            “Wish that, you do?” Yoda asked. He had never pushed his padawan into it, but Dooku simply seemed to enjoy being childish occasionally, even as an adult, which was exactly what Yoda had hoped when he’d taught him that lesson in the first place.

            Dooku just laughed and said, “Let me take my robe off.”

            Dooku hoped that his master was right about Qui-Gon, and he was thinking that their little family might definitely enjoy hearing about this bit of happy madness.

            Once they’d had their fun and cleaned up, Dooku curled up wearily on his old padawan bed, his head in Yoda’s lap. The elder man was carding his fingers through Dooku’s long black hair, humming an old tune that Dooku recognized from when he was a new padawan in Yoda’s care.

            “I envy them, Master,” Dooku said suddenly. “I’ve been gone for too long.” He sighed. “They just don’t need me anymore.”

            “Wrong you are, my padawan,” Yoda said, continuing to stroke Dooku’s hair. “Need you, they do.”

            Dooku’s expression was both wry and sad. “My own padawan has taken his padawan as his master. Where am I supposed to fit in that?”

            Yoda smiled. “Master to both of them, you are.” He sought for something else to calm his unsettled padawan. “Wish you do to be a padawan learner again? Wish you do to wear the braid again?”

            Dooku blushed. “Would you think less of me if I admitted that I am exceedingly jealous that they are able to do that? If I admitted that I would like nothing better than to acknowledge that I am still learning…from you?”

            Yoda shook his head. “Think less of you, I do not. Another student at this point, I will not take. But take you back as my student, I will.”

            Dooku sat up as Yoda nudged him. He watched in surprise as Yoda Force-called a handful of slender lengths of leather and colorful beads to him. Soon, he felt the movement of his master’s fingers, familiar even after so many years, deftly braiding strands of his hair. A white bead was slipped onto it, and then Yoda tugged gently on the braid.

            “Appropriate, white is, for renewal and new beginnings. Satisfy you, does it, my padawan?” Yoda asked, smiling.

            Dooku caught the braid in his fingers and grinned. “Yes, Master. Thank you.” But he took Yoda by surprise as Dooku took several of the colorful leather strips and began to braid them, putting another white bead on the bracelet before slipping it around his master’s wrist and tying it off securely.

            “And does it suit you as well?” Dooku asked, his expression marred by the slightest bit of uncertainty.

            Yoda looked down at his padawan braid, so similar to the ones that Mace and Bant wore, and then up at Dooku. He grinned, and Dooku relaxed.

            “My master, yes it does,” Yoda said quietly. “Thank you, I do, Master.”

            They dissolved into laughter and lay back on the bed as Dooku began to tell stories from his latest missions, and Yoda updated him on the latest Temple gossip.

            Curled up under the blanket that had covered Dooku when he was a young teenager, the two of them drifted off to sleep.


	4. A Father and His Son

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: I’ve changed the rating on this story to mature so that I don’t forget to do it later. There will be mature content though not yet. I am making up everything about Serenno and Dooku’s early life in this chapter. By the way, I need some pranks for the new “padawans” to play at the Temple. Any ideas, please leave them in the comments.**

            As Yoda comforted the distraught Dooku, a very different scene was taking place in Qui-Gon Jinn’s quarters. Having returned from a leisurely dinner, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Mace, and Bant were sharing tea. Qui-Gon checked his com link and realized that it wasn’t displaying properly.

            “Mace, could you do me a favor and get me my spare com link from my bedroom? It’s on the table beside my bed. I’ll have to take this one to the tech department to get it fixed tomorrow,” Qui-Gon said.

            Mace set down his tea and went into his friend’s bedroom, easily finding the com link. But there was a small, leather-bound book beside it. Curious, Mace picked it up and found that he could not read the title. Though he was an expert at many languages, he didn’t recognize this one.

            Mace handed over the com link to Qui-Gon and then held up the book. “Qui-Gon, what language is this book in? I don’t recognize it.”

            Qui-Gon looked up and smiled, taking the book from Mace. “The book is written in the formal Court dialect of Serenno. Basic is the language of the common people, but my master retains his Court title of Count. He is fluent in this dialect, and my ability with it is passable.” Qui-Gon looked wistful. “He taught it to me. He was planning on introducing me to his world’s poetry to help me with my fluency when he was called to the first of the missions he’s been on almost constantly for the past few years.” Qui-Gon sighed. “This was his name day present to me just before he left.”

            Mace smiled. “He cares for you very much.”

            Qui-Gon smiled back. “He does. And I have done my best to read this book. Thankfully, there are translations in Basic on facing pages, but I have still run into problems with exact meanings as well as pronunciation.” He handed the book to Obi-Wan who took it carefully with Bant looking over his shoulder.

            “This is interesting. Do you think he would teach me, Master?” Obi-Wan asked.

            Qui-Gon chuckled. “I suppose so. You’d have to ask him.”

            Obi-Wan grinned. “He is my grandmaster after all.”

            Qui-Gon shook his head. “I’m not sure if he’d appreciate that title. He’s always been a very formal man. Family has always been a mere matter of blood ties to him. He once told me that giving up family is one of the sacrifices Jedi must make.” He fiddled with his padawan braid. “Of course, I don’t agree with him…not anymore.”

            Obi-Wan handed back the book, a tender look in his eyes. “I don’t think he does either…at least not since he gave you this.” He pointed to the flyleaf. “Did you ever actually read the inscription?”

            Qui-Gon looked abashed, and the other three all stifled chuckles. Of course, he hadn’t. His cluelessness when it came to obvious things was one of the most endearing and frustrating things about him.

            Suitably chastened, Qui-Gon read the words aloud that were written on the flyleaf in his master’s elegant, nearly calligraphic script.

            “ _To my padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn, on your name day, I never imagined that I would ever understand what it meant to be a father until the Force gave me you as a son. May you never doubt how much you mean to me or how proud of you I am. Always your master, Yan Dooku.”_

            Qui-Gon didn’t notice his tears until Obi-Wan wiped them away with gentle fingers.

            “You know, you didn’t treat him very well this evening when he and Master Yoda came by,” Obi-Wan said softly. “None of us did. There he was, returning from several years, more or less, of Force-forsaken missions to who knows where to find that we had, in his absence, formed a family that seemed to have no place for him…or for his own master, who he seems to be very close to.”

            Qui-Gon hung his head as Obi-Wan stroked his hand reassuringly. “It’s alright, Master. It can be fixed.” Obi-Wan smiled. “It’s not as if you don’t have plenty of practice with apologizing.” For a moment, sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan looked very much like a youngling as he said, “And you give very nice hugs.”

            That startled an embarrassed laugh out of Qui-Gon who shrugged and grabbed the boy in a very nice hug indeed before sighing and glancing at Mace.

            “Brother, how in the universe to do I manage to keep tripping over my feet like this? I can make any plant grow and heal any animal, but when it comes to people, I’m worse than a youngling.”

            Taking in his best friend’s flushed face, Mace managed not to laugh. “Qui-Gon, anyone who knows you and cares for you knows that it is just the way you are. Not that you can’t get better though.” He glanced at Obi-Wan and Bant who nodded. They’d all work with him on this. He turned back to Qui-Gon. “But of everyone, I think Master Dooku would be the least likely person to hold a grudge against you.” There was, for a moment, a distant look in Mace’s eyes. Bant clasped his hand in hers, and he smiled a little sadly. “Apparently, he looks on you like his son…and fathers always forgive.”

            Qui-Gon sighed and smiled. “You are, as always, correct. Well, tomorrow I can set this right.”

            Late the next morning after seeing Obi-Wan off to his classes, Qui-Gon, clutching the book that Dooku had given him, arrived at his master’s door. He could have just gone right in. Even after he’d been knighted, Dooku had made a point of making sure that Qui-Gon always had his latest door code. But considering what he’d done to his master the previous evening, he decided that knocking would be a better idea.

            It was rare to see Dooku surprised, but his master’s brown eyes widened when he realized who was standing before him.

            “Qui-Gon, come in. I wasn’t expecting you this morning,” Dooku said as he gestured his padawan to his accustomed position on the couch. “Would you like tea?”

            Qui-Gon almost winced and shook his head. His master was already retreating into what Qui-Gon thought of as his “formal” mode, and he had no doubt that he was at fault for bringing it on. The younger man sighed, rubbing his forehead in a gesture he’d picked up from Dooku who had in turn picked it up from Yoda.

            Finally, Qui-Gon looked up. “Master, I’m not any good at this, so I’ll just say it plainly. I messed up yesterday. All of mine did, but I was the most responsible for it. I’m sorry for what I said and did. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you have no place in our family. I want you there. I need you there. Force knows, we are all in desperate need of guidance right now. Yours…and Master Yoda’s, if my grandmaster is willing.”

            Qui-Gon glanced down at the book in his hand. “I’m ashamed to say that, though I have been studying this book you gave me, I didn’t read the inscription until yesterday.” To Qui-Gon’s embarrassment, he felt tears filling his eyes as he remembered what his master had written. He blinked them back, but he wasn’t entirely successful. “I want you to know that I’m so happy that you think of me as your son. And for what it’s worth, Master, I think of you as my father.”

            There was silence for a moment as Qui-Gon struggled against his tears. Tahl’s death was still too fresh, and the emotional upheaval of the past few days had left him with precious little restraint. He hung his head and hoped that Dooku had not noticed.

            “Qui-Gon, look at me,” Dooku said. When Qui-Gon did not move, Dooku got up from his chair and came to sit beside the younger man. His master’s fingers gently tipped his chin up, forcing Qui-Gon to meet his eyes.

            “Padawan, it’s alright.”

            Qui-Gon fought his tears regardless…until his master finally sighed and reached out awkwardly. Qui-Gon crossed the distance between them with some hesitation. He could number on one hand the number of times Dooku had hugged him. But then, his master’s arms were around him, and Qui-Gon found himself curling up, somehow making himself small enough to fit into his master’s embrace even though he was taller than Dooku. He heard his master’s breath catch as Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around his neck, and then his master’s hand was coaxing him to lay his head against Dooku’s shoulder. Gentle fingers stroked Qui-Gon’s hair.

            And Qui-Gon wept…wept as he had not wept even during those hours of grieving for Tahl earlier, wept for not only grief but for joy as well, the joy of the family he was finally beginning to acknowledge, the family he was finally realizing had been there all along. He sobbed, clinging to Dooku as though he was a small boy clinging to his father. In that moment, Qui-Gon understood that was exactly who he was.

            “Father,” Qui-Gon said suddenly. He lifted his head to look at the elder man. Dooku’s brown eyes were wide. His master had always been guarded about his very early years before he was brought to the Temple, but Qui-Gon had figured out that they had not been pleasant. He suspected that little Dooku had never been allowed to call his father by such a sentimental title.

            “Father,” Qui-Gon said again, and he watched the man who held him fall to pieces.

            Dooku gasped, fought for control, swallowed a sob, and then gave up all attempts at resisting his emotions.

            “Son,” he managed, and that was the last thing he said before he buried his head against Qui-Gon’s hair and wept. Qui-Gon tightened his hold on his master, rubbing his back soothingly as wrenching sobs shook his body. It felt good, so good, to hold his master like this, to be held like this, to have an anchor to cling to in the storm of their shared emotions. On a whim, Qui-Gon probed the place in his mind where his old training bond with Dooku had been, and, to his surprise, he found it not broken or dormant but very much alive.

            _Master?_   he sent across the bond. _Father?_

            Dooku stirred, turning his red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face to Qui-Gon.

            _Padawan?_   Dooku sent back, a tone of disbelief in his mental voice. _Son?_

            Disbelief turned to joy for them both. Affection poured in from both sides of the bond as their mental connection snapped fully back into place.

            Qui-Gon laughed for sheer happiness and hugged his master tighter. Dooku did the same, and Qui-Gon was startled when a braid of hair tickled his ear.

            Incredulous, he asked, “Master, are you wearing a padawan braid?”

            Dooku caught his breath and smiled at his padawan. “I was…distraught…last night over what I saw as your rejection of me. Master Yoda decided that Obi-Wan and Bant had the right idea.”

            Qui-Gon sighed, tugging gently on his master’s braid. “I’m so sorry.”

            Dooku returned the favor on Qui-Gon’s own braid. “I think you’ve sufficiently apologized.” He smirked. “But I’m not the only one wearing a padawan braid again. Take a look at Yoda’s wrist. I put one on him last night too.”

            Qui-Gon’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”

            Dooku laughed. “No, he needed it as much as I did, in his own way. He’s as lonely as I’ve been.”

            Qui-Gon nodded. “Well, I think we ought to go together to see him. It sounds as though he won’t object to standing as grandmaster to all of us…and now padawan to you.”

            Dooku said, “He won’t object. But do you realize what this means?” His expression turned mischievous, the first time Qui-Gon had seen such a look on his master’s face.

            “What does it mean?” he asked curiously.

            Dooku laughed again. “It means, my fellow padawan, that Mace, Yoda, you, and I are all padawans now. Mace, Yoda, and I are all on the Council.”  He paused.  "And Yoda is the grandmaster of the entire Jedi Order."

            The realization dawned on Qui-Gon. “Sithing hells, we can get away with absolutely anything we want.”

            They were both grinning as Dooku said, “Exactly.”

            In that moment, it was official. The Jedi Order was doomed.


	5. Second Time Around

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: Prank time! And I almost pity the poor, bewildered Council here…almost. And thanks to Inkognito97 for helping me figure out how to make this chapter work.**

            Three weeks later, the Jedi Council, those members who were not enjoying a second period of being padawans again, were nearly ready to Fall to the Dark Side solely for the chance to escape the madness that had become the Jedi Temple. Granted, it was a happy madness, at least in the eyes of the crechelings and padawans and even the knights. But the Councilors were not so easy-going about the pranks, especially since they were always the primary sufferers from the effects of them.

            The water in the Room of a Thousand Fountains was currently orange. It had cycled through every color of the rainbow, a new color each day. The Councilors had finally pinned that prank on, of all people, Mace Windu. When confronted, Mace had shrugged innocently.

            “I think, Masters, that you should speak with Master Eerin. She is, after all, my master. I’m just a padawan,” he said, fighting to keep the smirk off his face.

            At a loss as to what to do, they’d summoned “Master Eerin” to the Council. Her response had been less than satisfying.

            “I’m just a padawan, Masters. I certainly wouldn’t dream of having any influence over the actions of my master.” She smiled sweetly. “Shall I get Master Windu for you? He’s really the one you should be speaking to.”

            The Star Map Room had been completely turned upside down…literally. The young initiates, just starting their studies in astronomy, went eagerly to their lessons, knowing that something new would be “wrong” in the star charts waiting for them to fix it. Really, it didn’t bother their teachers much, since it was a challenge for young minds, but several of the elder Council members liked to meditate in that room and found its current state of disarray less than conducive to meditation.

            That prank was blamed on Yan Dooku, who also happened to be known for his encyclopedic knowledge of astronomy. When the Council had called him to account, the mischievous expression on his face proved that their chastisement was doing very little good.

            “Now, Masters, I am just a padawan,” he said smirking as he innocently tucked his braid behind his ear. “Perhaps you would prefer to talk to my master, Master Yoda, instead?”

            So they looked to Master Yoda. However, their Grandmaster seemed to be having a fine time being anything but grandmasterly. When confronted by the doings of his padawan, he just shook his head, holding up the wrist which displayed his padawan braid.

            Smirking, Yoda said, “A lowly padawan, I am. To influence my master, I seek not. Wish to speak to my master, Master Dooku, you do? Happy to retrieve him for you, I would be.”

            And then there was the prank played by Yoda himself. The Councilors were none too pleased to find that their lightsabers were nowhere to be found and had been replaced by the rainbow light sticks that the children of Coruscant often played with. That would have been bad enough, but the Councilors were giving an exhibition of lightsaber forms and techniques to the crechelings and initiates that day. Needless to say, the Councilors were mortified when Yoda compelled them to go through with it anyway, and they were forced to wave the colorful toys at each other as the younglings of the Temple (and every non-Councilor in attendance) roared with laughter. By this point, a number of the more easy-going Councilors were beginning to relax and even enjoy the pranks, and Depa Billaba conducted an excellent exhibition spar, rainbow toys and all, with Eeth Koth. Plo Koon’s bout with Kit Fisto was equally impressive. But other Councilors, like Yaddle, only grew more resistant.

            Once again, they called Yoda to answer for his actions. Yoda sighed, smiling playfully at them all.

            “Only a padawan, I am. Already once, told you this, I have. Master Dooku, you wish me to bring here? My master, after all, he is.”

            Certain members of the Council began to ponder whether pranking could be considered a path to the Dark Side.

            Then Qui-Gon took his turn. As it happened, he was not on the Council, but he was conveniently in attendance that day to give a report about the status of the Archives. Qui-Gon was a devoted adherent of the Living Force, and his aptitude with animals and plants was well known. However, less well known was that Qui-Gon had developed his abilities to the extent that he could, on a small scale, control the weather. Water and temperature were his specialties.

            That was exactly why it was snowing in the Council chamber.

            At first, the Councilors couldn’t believe their eyes. But the flurries quickly became heavier snowfall which began to accumulate on the floor.

            Depa tried very hard not to laugh as she commented, “It appears to be snowing inside. This is certainly an unlikely occurrence.”

            Yaddle scowled. “Unlikely, it is. Pin blame for this, we will.” She turned to stare at Qui-Gon who was mightily trying not to laugh. “Caused this, you did, Master Jinn!”

            Qui-Gon lost the battle and burst into laughter. “So I did. So what? This esteemed Council could use a little fun once in a while.”

            Qui-Gon’s laughter was contagious. Before long, the whole room was laughing even as Yaddle, cowering on her chair, shouted at Dooku.

            “Control your padawan, Master Dooku, you will! Stop this nonsense immediately, he must!”

            Dooku studied the furious Yaddle as if she were some sort of exhibit. “I’m sorry you find it so offensive, Yaddle. I think it’s lovely myself. I always have enjoyed snow. But really, what can I do about Qui-Gon? I am just a padawan, after all. Perhaps you should talk to my master. He doesn’t seem to have the aversion to snow that you do.”

            All eyes swung to Yoda who stood on top of his chair, laughing as he held his hands up to the snow and tried to catch it on his tongue. He glanced sadly at Yaddle.

            “Yaddle, to relax and enjoy, you do not know how? A pity, that is. But compel Dooku to compel Qui-Gon, I cannot. Only a padawan, I am.”

            Could frustration lead to the Dark Side? If so, Yaddle was well on her way. In desperation, she swung back to Qui-Gon.

            “Then Master Kenobi, I will call, and with you, he will deal!” One com call later, the door to the Council chamber opened to admit “Master Kenobi” as well as “Master Eerin.”

            Bowing to the Council as both teens fought their laughter upon seeing the snow, Obi-Wan turned to Yaddle, the one in the room who looked the most furious.

            “Your padawan, you will bring under control!” Yaddle demanded, pointing at Qui-Gon. “This mockery of our ways, cease it must!”

            Obi-Wan bowed again, eyes downcast. “I’m very sorry, Master Yaddle. But I’m just a padawan. Maybe you should talk to my master? Master Jinn might be able to help you.”

            Yaddle screamed. It was more like a wail, a keening sound that had its rough edges shorn off by the insulating snow. But the sound was cut off by the snowball that hit Yaddle, albeit gently, in the face. Startled into silence, she stared in shock at Mace Windu who was walking forward with a determined look. In that moment, Yaddle remembered the grieving, frightened teenager Mace had been, the boy whom the Council on which she had sat had knighted and left masterless, the boy on whom they had piled the responsibilities of a man…the child from whom they had taken so much that was not theirs to take. She was the only remaining Councilor who had taken part in those decisions as Yoda had been off-planet at the time. All the others had either left the Council or passed into the Force.

            “That was for what happened when I was sixteen.” He threw another snowball and hit her shoulder. “That was for letting that man deny me another master.” He threw another snowball and hit her other shoulder. “That was for letting that man excuse me from my Trials and knight me.” He threw one more, hitting her straight on. The hits were never hard enough to hurt her, but they made their point. “And that was for allowing me to be named a Master and raised to the Council before I was seventeen.”

            The room was suddenly very quiet. Yaddle, using the Force to hover over the snow, moved until she was directly in front of Mace.

            “The only remaining member of the Council who was present during those actions, I am,” she acknowledged, all fury gone from her voice. Her ears drooped in shame.

            Mace’s eyes burned for a moment with the sting of remembrance. “Yes, you are.”

            Sighing, she said, “Sorry, so sorry, I am.” Lowering herself from midair to her feet, she dropped to her knees, touching her forehead to the snow-covered floor in an ancient gesture of penitence.

            For a moment, they were frozen like that, an odd tableau of the purity of the snow and the stains of old sins. Bant, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Dooku, Yoda, and the rest of the Council watched in silence, aware that this was Mace’s decision to make, and Mace’s alone. The Council had taken his choices from him too many times. It would not do so again.

            Finally, Mace knelt and reached out, placing his hands gently on Yaddle’s head between her ears. Her soft auburn hair tickled his trembling fingers.

            “I forgive you, Yaddle.” He felt a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Instead, he helped Yaddle to stand.

            She reached out, clasping his hands as he knelt in front of her, a sad smile on her face. “Make up to you what you have lost, I wish I could.”

            Mace smiled, feeling the tightness in his heart ease. “If you want to make it up to me, play with us! That’s what Qui-Gon made this snow for, after all. Just let go and let yourself play.”

            “Forgotten how to play, I have,” Yaddle admitted sheepishly.

            Mace grinned. “Teach you that, we can.”

            Yaddle’s smile became a grin of her own at Mace’s mimicry just before a volley of snowballs came her way.

            As far as pranks went, it would go down as the only snowball fight that ever took place during a Council meeting in the history of the Order. As he set to helping the taller participants in the fun unbury from the snow the smaller participants, Mace decided it wasn’t a bad record for him to have to his credit.

            Yaddle smiled at him as he dusted the snow from her hair. He smiled back.

            No, not a bad record at all.


	6. To Heal a Broken Heart

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: I’ve listed relationships for this story now. It is rated mature, and the relationships are both het and slash, including one that is interspecies and a very rare pairing. It won’t be explicit, but it will be present. I will warn for the chapters that have “lemons.” I’ve used italics in this chapter for mind speech.**

Mace shifted slightly in his chair, trying to keep from fidgeting. He and Bant had been invited to dinner in Master Dooku’s quarters, and Master Dooku had mentioned that there was something important that he wanted to discuss. That Master Yoda, Qui-Gon, Bant, and Obi-Wan were all in attendance made him suspect that it had something to do directly with him.

            Finally, Master Dooku set down his teacup. “Mace, I suppose you’ve guessed that I have something important that I want to ask you about.”

            Mace tensed automatically. His former jealousy of the man who was his fellow Council member still embarrassed him. Bant reached out and squeezed his hand, and Mace relaxed. Dooku did not miss the gesture and once again thanked the Force for Bant who had brought light back into Mace’s eyes.

            Dooku decided to be frank with Mace. “Mace, I know that you have been jealous of my bond with Master Yoda. And it’s understandable why you would feel that way. I wish you would stop feeling embarrassed about it.”

            Mace smiled sheepishly at Dooku. “I’m a grown man. I ought to be beyond such petty jealousies.”

            Dooku smiled back just as sheepishly. “I wish that I had been on the Council at the time everything happened so that I could have stopped them. But what’s done is done.” He paused. “I am aware that you desired a bond with Yoda.”

            Yoda interrupted then, his ears drooping. “Mine, you would have been, if here, I had been. So, it should have been. Choice I made then, a bond with you to deny, wrong choice it was. Above your well-being, the Council’s opinion, I should not have placed.” He shook his head. “But that choice, I did make. Undo it, I cannot. Too much history between us, there is now.”

            Mace sighed and nodded. “Agreed, Master Yoda. Besides, I would not want to intrude upon your primary bond.” His eyes rested on Dooku.

            Dooku eyed him wryly. “I thank you for that consideration. However, I have a solution to this situation that I would like to propose.” The humor left his eyes to be replaced by solemnity of a Councilor. “Mace Windu, would you allow me to form a training bond with you?”

            Mace gasped. No one else reacted, so Mace knew that Dooku must have planned this with them. He turned immediately to Qui-Gon.

            “Qui-Gon, are you okay with this? You’d be sharing your master,” Mace said.

            Qui-Gon laughed. “I think there’s enough of my master for us to share. Truthfully, you are the only person I’d be willing to share him with. I’d like nothing better than for him to be able to take care of you as well as he’s taken care of me.”

            Qui-Gon grinned at his master, beaming affection, and Dooku couldn’t keep himself from reaching out to take Qui-Gon’s hand.

            Mace managed a small smile and turned to the others. “Bant, Obi-Wan, you don’t have an objection to this?”

            Bant laughed. “Why would we? Master, when you first shared with me what had happened to you, I made a promise to myself that I would find some way to give you everything you had missed. I can’t bring your old master back, but I can help you find a new one…one that I have no objection to being my grandmaster.”

            “And then you will be a part of Master Yoda’s line after all, through Master Dooku,” Obi-Wan added.

            “Pleased, this makes me, Master Windu. With Depa, I have spoken. Pleased, this makes her as well. Worried about you, she has been,” Yoda said.

            Mace blushed. “I had not realized that it had gotten serious enough to worry Depa.”

            Yoda sighed. “Cares about you, she does. Worthy of care, you are. Sorry, I am, that teach you that, the Order has not.” Yoda paused and said more softly, “A good Jedi, Shatel was. A good master, Shatel was. A good man, Shatel was. Forgotten him, I have not.”

            Dooku came to stand beside Mace’s chair. “Neither have I forgotten him. Nor do I seek to replace him. But I wish to give you what you should have had all along…a master’s bond in your heart.” Dooku knelt on the floor beside Mace. “So let me ask this again. Mace Windu, will you accept me as your second master and allow me to form a training bond with you?”

            Mace knew in that moment that, safe in the embrace of the Force, his old master was smiling. So was his new master when Mace finally found his voice.

            “Yes, I will.” Then, Mace found himself being lightly manhandled by Qui-Gon to sit on the couch as Dooku sat down beside him. The others all pulled up chairs, and Yoda perched on the arm of the sofa.

            Dooku spoke. “We will bond first, and then, if you are willing, the others will join us.”

            Mace nodded. He would have folded his hands in his lap to ease their trembling, but Dooku reached out to him. Hesitantly, Mace allowed Dooku to clasp his hands in his own.

            Unlike many training bonds whose initial formation was hampered by inexperienced padawans, Dooku’s bond with Mace formed as easily as breathing once both men had dropped their shields. But Dooku took care not to surge into his new padawan’s mind. He held back and allowed Mace to reach out on his own, projecting warmth and welcome to him but no insistence as Mace began to explore Dooku’s mind and memories. Dooku had expected Mace’s interest in his memories of Shatel, and he did not begrudge them to him. He was more surprised by Mace’s interest in Dooku’s time with Qui-Gon until Mace finally, shyly, began to allow Dooku into his own mind. That was when Dooku realized it.

            _You love him, Padawan mine,_ Dooku thought.

            It took Mace a minute to reply as he relished Dooku’s term of endearment. But then he admitted the truth.

            _Yes, I do. Does that bother you?_

            Dooku let a tendril of affection caress his new padawan. _Hardly. And if I am reading him correctly, which I usually am, Qui-Gon feels the same way._ He sent soothing energy to Mace who basked in it like a feline in sunlight.

            _I just don’t know how to bring it up with him,_ Mace admitted. _I’m terrible with emotions, and, as you well know, Qui-Gon isn’t often much better._ He sensed his new master’s amusement.

            _I have an excellent idea. Tell Bant. She and Obi-Wan will take care of the rest. You and Qui-Gon won’t stand a chance._

            Mace answered with amusement of his own. _That’s actually a very good idea. Speaking of masters and padawans…I think it’s time I met the rest of the family._

            Dooku obligingly withdrew from the bond long enough to call for Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Bant, and Yoda. With Yoda guiding them, they all mentally joined Mace and Dooku.

            Bathed in affection from all sides, Mace felt the pain of his shattered bond with Shatel finally heal.

            _You see, Padawan, you do not need to forget. But you no longer need to grieve, Dooku assured him. We are your family now, and you will never be alone again._

            _Love,_ Mace thought, letting the five minds brimming with affection wrap him up like an infant in a blanket. It was the same feeling that he had felt from and for Shatel, though neither of them had ever said the word. And it was what he had felt for and from Depa. _This is love. I am loved._

            _Yes!_ That came from all of them at once, and then the mental link dissolved naturally as they each returned to their own mind. He opened his eyes to find himself tucked securely into his new master’s embrace.

            “Aren’t I a little big for this, Master?” Mace asked, relishing the title even as he made no move to pull away. In fact, he cuddled in closer, drinking in the affection.

            Dooku laughed, wiping tears from Mace’s cheeks. “Padawan, I manage to do this with your twin. I can certainly manage to do it with you.” He smiled at Bant and Obi-Wan and then at Yoda. “The truth is, no padawan is ever too big for a hug from their master.”

            Qui-Gon laughed. “Twins? Is that what you’re calling Mace and me now?”

            “It fits,” Dooku said sincerely. “You two are two sides of the same coin. I think you always will be.” He grinned at both of them, and his brown eyes were full of tears. “The Force has blessed me with twin sons.”

            Qui-Gon sighed. “Master, when you talk like that, I just can’t help this.” And then he sat down on Dooku’s other side and wrapped his arms around them both.

            “Pleased, I am, to see you so happy,” Yoda balanced on the arm of the sofa. “Very pleased, I am, to count you as part of my line.” Yoda’s ears drooped. “So very sorry, I am, for hurting you. Your forgiveness, I seek.”

            Mace found his eyes filling with fresh tears. “Grandmaster, I forgave you long ago.” He disentangled one of his hands and laid it gently on Yoda’s head, just as he’d done with Yaddle. “But if those are the words you need to hear, I forgive you.”

            Yoda radiated pure joy, and everyone grinned.

            It was then that Mace remembered something he’d promised himself he would ask Dooku whenever he got the chance.

            “Master, since I can call you that now, there’s a question that I’ve been wanting to ask you, and I know that Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Bant are curious too. What exactly is it that Yoda does with you when you return from missions?” Mace asked.

            Dooku turned bright red and stared down at his hands. Even Yoda looked slightly sheepish, though more for Dooku’s sake than his own. Unfortunately, that only intrigued everyone else.

            “Master? By all the stars, what could be so embarrassing that you react like that?” Qui-Gon asked, exchanging curious glances with the others.

            Finally, Dooku said, “Master? Can we just project the memories for them to see?”

            Yoda chuckled. “Project them, we will, my poor embarrassed padawan.” Yoda opened the bond between himself and Dooku to them, and then they were watching the answer to their question. They saw how it had started and why…and they saw how it had continued. When Yoda closed the bond again, Dooku looked ready to flee the room.

            But then Mace laughed. “Master, why are you so embarrassed? You two are so clearly enjoying yourselves when you do that. And the last time I checked, there wasn’t anything in the Code against a food fight.”

            Dooku smiled in spite of himself. “My thirteen-year-old self had to learn that lesson, and even now, I still choose to relearn it.”

            Qui-Gon tugged gently on his master’s braid. “I think I speak for all of us, Master, when I assure you that the only negative emotion we’re feeling toward you and Yoda right now is jealousy that you haven’t seen fit to let us join you occasionally!”

            Dooku exchanged a knowing glance with Yoda who nodded. “That could be arranged, if that’s really what you want.”

            Bant placed her hand in Dooku’s. “Grandmaster, the last time I was in a good food fight, both Obi-Wan and I were still crechelings. Of course, we want to play with you!”

            Obi-Wan grinned impishly at Dooku. “You did join us in that snowball fight after all.”

            Dooku tried to look stern but ended up dissolving into laughter. “I suppose my façade of unemotional Jedi perfection is wearing thin.”

            Mace laughed. “Yours and mine both, Master.” He paused. “And I have never been happier now that they are cracking.”

            Dooku nodded even as his voice turned solemn again. “I’m glad that we have been able to give you back that much. Tomorrow, we are going to give you back one more thing that was taken from you.” He exchanged a significant glance with Yoda.

            Mace looked at him curiously, “What do you mean, Master?”

            Dooku sighed. “Tomorrow, my padawan, I am going to present you to the Council to take your Trials.”


	7. A Place Where No Shadows Fall

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: Warning for disturbing images. There is a portion of this chapter in italics because it takes place within Mace’s mind. Regarding Mace’s Trials, I have used information from Wookiepedia. I’ve borrowed a line of dialogue near the end of this chapter as well as the chapter title from the television series, Babylon 5. Kudos to anyone who recognizes it!**

            “Though an unusual situation, this is, Master Dooku, this Council has no objections to accepting Mace Windu for his Trials. Excused from them, he should not have been, though his fault, that absolutely was not,” Yaddle said. She spoke in Yoda’s place at Yoda’s request, so that there would be no chance of suspected bias.

            For his part, Mace had been pleased. He wanted to be on as equal footing as possible with any other Jedi padawan. It would be an approximation at best, but Mace was satisfied.

            “In agreement, this Council is, that Mace Windu has already passed the Trials of Flesh, Courage, Skill, and Insight. Passed them during the years of his service to the Jedi, he has,” Yaddle continued. “But passed the fifth and final Trial, that of the Spirit, he has not.” She turned on her chair to look at Mace. “To Face the Mirror, Mace Windu, it is time. To meet the darkest depths of yourself, willing are you?”

            Mace bowed low to the Council. Having temporarily put aside his status as a Councilor, Mace stood before them no different than any other prospective Jedi Knight, two steps behind and to the right of his master, Master Dooku.

            “I am willing, Masters,” he said, feeling a surge of anxiety travel up his spine. Though Dooku did not give any outward indication, Mace relaxed slightly as his master sent reassurance and support across their bond.

            “So be it then.” She turned back to Dooku. “Shield your bond with your padawan, you will, Master Dooku. Barred from the Council chamber, you are, until send for you, we do.”

            Dooku sighed, but he bowed to the rest of the Councilors, briefly squeezing Mace’s shoulder before he left the room.

            Yaddle Force-locked the doors behind him. “Kneel before us, you will. The procedure for this, you have known for many years. The deepest level of meditation, you will seek…then open yourself and look within, you will.” The stern Councilor gentled slightly, and she settled on her knees before him. “Guide you back, I will. Go now, and with you, may the Force be.”

            Mace felt Yaddle settle into his mind, preparing to monitor his Trial. With great care, Mace let himself drift down into progressively deeper levels of meditation. The Council chamber fell away from his awareness, Yaddle’s presence fell away…and then even his bonds with Dooku and Bant. Then there was nothing.

_Suddenly, Mace was back in the Council chamber. Was that it? Had something already happened? But Mace realized quickly that this was a different Council then the one he was a member of. He himself was standing in the position of Grandmaster of the Order. To his right stood Dooku, and to his left stood Yoda. Qui-Gon, Depa, Bant, and Obi-Wan, the latter two grown to maturity, also held places in the circle. The other Councilors’ faces were too indistinct for him to identify._

_But he knew the man on his knees in front of him. Oh, how he knew him…the man ultimately responsible for taking the most horrible moment of Mace’s life…and making it a thousand times worse. This man had been in charge of the Council when Shatel had died. This man had taken every remaining shred of good from him and had given him nothing but the bleak drudgery of duty to take its place. This man had robbed him of everything._

_Beside Mace, Yoda sneered. “All the others, harmed you, they have. Expelled from the Order, they have been. But led them, this man did. Above all, punishment he deserves. The victim of his evil, you are. The Grandmaster of our Order, you are. Thus, his punishment, yours it is.”_

_Mace smirked back at Yoda, drinking in the approval that the elder master radiated. Hungry anticipation seeped into his mind as Mace stared down at the man._

_“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Mace taunted._

_The man cowered, shrinking away from him. “Mercy, Master! Have mercy on me, please! I made a choice of expediency, nothing more. I wished you no harm!”_

_Mace’s anger crept closer. “You took everything from me! I was a child, and you hurt me! You ruined my life. You nearly destroyed me!”_

_“But you are here!” the man insisted, a hysterical edge in his voice. “I did not destroy you! Oh Master, only grant me mercy and forgiveness, and I will make it up to you!”_

_Mace laughed bitterly. “Forgiveness? You expect me to forgive you? No, I will not forgive you. The others have paid with their calling, but you will pay with everything!”_

_Dooku stepped up beside him. “The crime was his. The punishment is yours. Take your vengeance!” Dooku placed Mace’s lightsaber into Mace’s hands and ignited it. “Take your vengeance! Make him pay!”_

_The other Councilors echoed him. “Take your vengeance! Take your vengeance! Take your vengeance!”_

_Grief, anger, and rage warred together in Mace’s heart and filled him like sour wine. With the Force, he compelled the man into position, his neck bared to the purple blade of Mace’s saber. This would be sweet, so very sweet._

_He raised the blade as his fellow Councilors chanted, “Vengeance!” until he could hear nothing but the word and the roar of the beast within him that demanded satisfaction._

_“No, Mace.”_

_Mace froze. He knew that voice…a voice he hadn’t heard in so many years._

_“Master?”_

_He had expected a Force Ghost. But Mace turned to find Shatel standing there, looking as he had the day they’d left for what had become their last mission._

_His master smiled at him. “Who else? The Force wasn’t about to forbid me the chance to finally attend your Trials.” His blue eyes were troubled. “Padawan mine, you know you cannot do this. You must know that you cannot do this!”_

_Mace sighed and lowered his saber, extinguishing the blade. “Yes, I suppose I did know. But it was, for a moment, just so tempting.” He smiled wanly at his master. “Thank you for reminding me.”_

_Though Mace loathed to take his eyes from Shatel, he knew he had to complete his Trial. He stared down at the man at his feet for one more moment. Then he spoke the words that he had never imagined he would ever be willing to say to him._

_“I forgive you.” Mace rested his trembling hands on the other man’s head. “Go in peace, and may the Force be with you.”_

_In the next instant, the man, the Councilors, and the chamber faded away…all except for Shatel. Mace, keenly aware that this vision would disappear too, threw his arms around his master. Strong, slender arms returned Mace’s embrace as familiar, beloved hands cupped his face. Shatel, who’d always been taller than even Mace’s own impressive height, bent to kiss Mace’s forehead._

_“I love you, my son,” Shatel said, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. But his blue eyes were bright. “I could not be prouder of you than I am in this moment.”_

_Mace too, was crying. “Master, I love you too. I could not have asked for a better father.” He wiped his arm across his eyes. “I thank the Force that I finally get the chance to tell you that.”_

_Shatel stroked Mace’s damp cheek. “Padawan, I knew. And deep within yourself, I trust that you knew the same, regardless of the lack of words between us.”_

_Mace managed to smile through his tears. “I knew. But to hear it means a lot.” He looked uncertainly at his master. “How do you feel about my second master?”_

_Shatel laughed, and Mace’s anxiety melted away. “Yan Dooku is a very good man, and he was a very good friend to me. I am so pleased that you are in his keeping now…and Yoda’s because the two of them are a package deal.” He laughed again. “And your padawans have been nothing but a credit to me. First Depa and now Bant.”_

_Mace sighed. “I can’t imagine how I would have made it without them in my life.”_

_“And what of Qui-Gon?” Shatel asked. “Please tell me you are not going to deny yourself happiness with him for the sake of a dreadfully literal and woefully ignorant misreading of the Code.”_

_Mace rested his head against his master’s shoulder. “No, Master. Maybe I would have before but not any longer.” He lifted his head to shyly meet his master’s eyes. “I love him, and our Code has been in desperate need of reevaluation for a very long time.”_

_Shatel grinned. “That’s my boy! If anyone can lead such changes, it will be you…you and the little family that you have acquired.”_

_They both laughed. “Master, you will always have a place in that family too,” Mace said._

_Shatel traced Mace’s padawan beads. “I know. And one day, a long time from now, all of you will join me here, and we will be together once again.” His voice softened. “Tell them all that Tahl will be with us as well. I have taken her under my wing, and she will be happy and safe until that day comes. Tell them all…tell them that she loves them and is happy about the family that they have formed.” Shatel said quietly, “She is particularly happy that you took Bant…and that you have come to love Qui-Gon.”_

_Mace sighed. “I’m glad. I had been worried that she might not approve.”_

_“Just promise me something, Padawan?” Shatel asked._

_“Anything, Master,” Mace vowed fervently._

_Shatel laughed. “Make sure that Dooku and Yoda include you and yours in their next food fight. And when that happens, dump a bowl of pudding over each of their heads for me!”_

_Mace laughed, feeling lighter in spirit than he had in years. The scene around him wavered, and he knew that their time together was growing short. Mace hugged his master one last time and kissed his cheek._

_“I love you, Master…my father.” Mace felt new tears threaten, but he blinked them back, unwilling to let them steal his last glimpse of his master._

_Shatel returned the kiss and hugged him back. “I love you so much, Padawan mine…my son. I am never far from you, and I never will be. May the Force be with you and yours until the day we meet again…in a place where no shadows fall.”_

            And then Shatel was gone, and Mace followed Yaddle’s mental voice back to consciousness, his face streaked by tears and the feel of his master’s kiss still on his damp cheek.

            He opened his eyes to see Yaddle’s smile. “Pass your Trials, you do. Congratulations, Jedi Knight.”


	8. Richly Deserved

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This is not the end of the story. There will be at least two more chapters after this one. Warning for underage alcohol consumption and underage sexual activity (Bant and Obi-Wan are sixteen), drunken shenanigans, and lemons (sexual activity) between slash and het couples including unusual interspecies romantic relationships. Mace is finally getting his knighting celebration, and that involves lots of alcohol and a whole lot of wicked, but very happy, chaos. Though the content is mature, not explicit, this chapter is essentially PWP…and an orgy, though in the sense of many couples doing it with each other in the same room, not partner switching. If you’re looking for deep content, you’re not going to find much…but it does bring to light some relationships that have only been hinted at until now. By the way, Mace is still wearing his padawan beads just as the others are because they apply to their current relationships, not their past ones. When Shatel died, Mace’s beads were severed and placed in Shatel’s hands on his funeral pyre. The beads he’s wearing now are from Bant. One more thing, this is fanfiction. I don’t advocate/support the activities in this chapter. It’s written purely for entertainment purposes.**

            Mace Windu was drunk…utterly, gloriously, blissfully drunk…and in that moment, he couldn’t be happier. Several decades late, he had finally gotten the chance to pass his Trials, and he finally felt worthy of the title of master…and his position on the Council.

            But tonight was not a night for titles and responsibility. Tonight, Mace Windu was getting what he so richly deserved, a knighting celebration. Granted, he hadn’t expected it to include anyone beyond his small family, but Yaddle had asked him if he was having a party the moment after she’d allowed Dooku entrance to the Council chamber when Mace passed his Trials. It had seemed rude not to invite her. After all, the two of them were actually becoming good friends. Then, of course, Depa Billaba had to come, since she’d been Mace’s padawan. She’d asked if she could bring Eeth Koth, and everything had taken off from there. Before he knew it, the entire Council was invited, in addition to Bant and Obi-Wan.

Since the group was large, Yoda had suggested that the party be moved to one of the reception rooms, already equipped with plenty of comfortable furniture and space for dancing. Dooku took care of the food and drink, calling on his connections as Count of Serenno, so they had ended up with the best of everything, including enough alcohol to get them all drunk several times over. Depa had programmed the music, and, for once, it was definitely not the sedate drivel that the eldest members of the Council professed to enjoy. Once the alcohol started flowing, no one really cared.

Mace downed the rest of his glass as Bant flopped down on the couch next to him.

“Having fun, Master?” she teased. Her voice was slightly slurred, but she was still reasonably steady…probably because she and Obi-Wan had spent as much time dancing as they had drinking. Mace had watched the two of them dance and had decided that he was very glad that Obi-Wan and Bant were incapable of reproducing together.

“What do you think?” he answered, aware that his own voice was none too steady.

Bant just laughed. “Master, you haven’t seen anything yet. I promised you help getting together with Master Jinn,” she looked up and saw Obi-Wan corner Qui-Gon across the room, “and Obi-Wan and I are about to deliver on that promise.” She patted his hand and tugged gently on his padawan beads. “Be sure to give us all a good show.”

Mace looked blankly at her. Bant laughed. “You don’t have a clue, do you? Well, just let Master Jinn lead. You’ll figure it out.” She pulled him to his feet and shoved him in Qui-Gon’s direction.

Qui-Gon laughed when he saw his bewildered face. “Our padawans were right. You don’t have any experience with this, do you?”

Even through the haze of alcohol, Mace still felt embarrassed. “That’s what happens when you’re on the Council at seventeen.”

Qui-Gon pulled him close with his hands on Mace’s waist. Mace wondered where he’d left his robe and when Qui-Gon had taken his own off. Then he decided that he didn’t care. Qui-Gon’s hands were roaming his body, slipping under his remaining layers of clothing to touch skin, and Mace, overwhelmed by sensation, lay his head on Qui-Gon’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, his confession slurred by the alcohol.

Qui-Gon’s warm fingers traced lightly over his bare scalp. “Just let me lead and go with what you feel.”

The music had changed to something slow and sensual, and Mace was content to let Qui-Gon do just that. Lips against his tasted of sweet wine and freedom, and Mace clung to the taller man as his head spun. His fingers found their way into Qui-Gon’s loose hair and then clumsily under his tunics, attempting to mirror what Qui-Gon was already doing to him.

Qui-Gon simply laughed. “That’s the way.” A quick flip of Qui-Gon’s eager hands had Mace’s tunics up over his head, the tangle of fabric serving to bind Mace’s hands behind his back.

“But I find, my dear, dear brother,” Qui-Gon chuckled, “that I simply have no interest in waiting.” He smirked, shoving Mace up against a convenient wall. Startled, Mace watched the other man drop to his knees on the floor.

It finally dawned on Mace that the two of them had a plethora of interested observers. There were Bant and Obi-Wan, pausing in their own activities to grin at their masters. There was Yoda, riding on Dooku’s back and peering over his shoulder. There was his master, smiling at him…along with the rest of the Council.

_Enjoy yourself, Padawan. You of all people have earned it._

Mace did not fight Qui-Gon’s hands as they unfastened his leggings. _Everyone is watching, Master._ Admittedly, he found that fact appealing.

_Of course, they are watching. But when you are not so distracted later, you should see just who is watching with whom. The entire Council has paired off and, if they do dare to call us to account tomorrow, there isn’t a Councilor here who won’t have to first account for themselves._

Mace intended to do just that until Qui-Gon decided that Mace was far too quiet and abruptly swallowed him down.

Mace screamed.

Dooku laughed. “You’re in very good hands, Padawan.” He turned his head as he felt his master tug on his braid. “Master, I’m inclined to think that you like my braid so much because it gives you something to play with.” He sat down on a sofa and set Yoda down beside him.

Yoda smirked. “Play with you, I wish to, but with something other than your braid, I wish to play.”

Dooku smirked right back at him. “And what would that be, Master?”

Yoda reached for his own robe. “Your robe, you will remove so that show you, I can.”

With fingers made clumsy from alcohol, they unfastened their robes and cast them aside. Yoda climbed into Dooku’s lap and made a general gesture at the scene around them which was rapidly degenerating from a party into chaos.

“Jealous, I am, of them. Jealous, I do not wish to be.” Yoda let the mental shields on his bond with his padawan fall completely.

Dooku grinned. “If I were sober, I would stop you.” He let his own shields fall. “I’m glad I’m drunk.” He stroked Yoda’s ears with unsteady hands. “But if you get to do it to me, I get to do it to you too.”

Yoda hummed with what Dooku knew to be pleasure. For Yoda’s people, their large, pointed ears were incredibly sensitive and, when touched, could produce feelings anywhere from simple comfort to full-blown sensual pleasure. It was foreplay to Yoda, and with their shields down, Dooku felt the pleasure as though it was his own.

But Yoda was rarely content to be a passive receiver, and tonight was no exception. With the skill of long practice, Yoda unfastened Dooku’s leggings, and Dooku couldn’t quite bite back the whimper that slipped from his lips as Yoda took him in hand. Yoda’s three-fingered hand was certainly not a human’s hand, but Dooku had found it did not matter to him. His master knew exactly what to do with his hands, and he was an expert at using the Force to drive Dooku absolutely mad. All Dooku could do was to keep up his side of their love-making and to make sure that he reflected his own pleasure back to his master. Yoda’s body did not react in the same way that Dooku’s did, but it was just as capable of being overwhelmed by lust and its fulfillment as Dooku’s was. The Force took care of the rest.

Yaddle smiled, shaking her head. “Reprimand them, I should. But reprimand them, I will not. Deserve this, they do.”

“What about you, Master? Do you deserve this too?” Master Oppo Rancisis slipped up behind her, his approach nearly soundless despite the long tail that guided his body.

Yaddle couldn’t help but smile at him. “To convince myself of that, Padawan, difficult it is,” Yaddle admitted.

Though nearly obscured by his hair, Yaddle could tell that Oppo was smiling gently back.

“Master, have you not lectured me often enough on the necessity of forgiveness? Are you truly unable to apply those same lessons to yourself?” Oppo uncoiled his tail, easily lifting Yaddle until their heights were level with each other.

Yaddle’s ears shot straight up. She couldn’t remember the last time that he had lifted her like that, barring an emergency during a mission when Oppo was still a padawan. It was, among his people, considered an intimate gesture. She found herself touched that he would do that for her now, but she wasn’t altogether convinced that the alcohol wasn’t affecting his judgment.

“Had much to drink, have you?” Yaddle asked.

He chuckled, sending a tendril of affection along their old training bond. They hadn’t used it in a very long time, and Yaddle found herself welcoming his mental touch.

“Only enough to relax me…not nearly enough to cloud my judgment.” He paused, and the feeling that came across their bond was decidedly sheepish. “As you of all people know, it takes a great deal more alcohol than this to get me drunk…unless you put that awful ginger herb in it.”

Yaddle’s ears drooped in shared embarrassment. It had been her padawan’s first experience with alcohol. Normally, Oppo’s species would have barely noticed the glass of wine she’d given him to drink, but she’d made the mistake of adding the ginger herb. Oppo had been drunk for three days and it had taken him four more to completely recover.

Another tendril of affection pulled her from her memories. “I can assure you that is not the case with me now.”

She sighed, knowing she was in much the same situation. Yoda had always been much more of a drinker than she had. So that clearly meant that the feelings rising up in her as she settled more comfortably in Oppo’s secure hold were quite real.

Yaddle took another glance around the room. The entire Council had clearly decided to throw the Code out the window for the evening, and Yaddle found that she couldn’t blame them.

Deliberately, she stroked Oppo’s tail, the scales smooth beneath her fingers. Oppo’s breath caught, and he stared at her. Among Oppo’s species, romantic partners would stroke each other’s tails in such a fashion.

Retreating to the comfort of formality, Oppo said, “Master? What do you mean by this?”

Boldly, she met his eyes. “Know, I think you do, Padawan mine.” She sighed. “Lonely, I am. Lonely, I think you are. Figured out later, the rest can be.” She sent affection and firm invitation across their bond. “Wish this, you do?”

For a moment, he was still. Then, he used his tail to bring her closer. He reached out and carefully angled one of his clawed fingers to stroke the outline of her ear. She leaned into his touch and reached down to more firmly caress his tail.

“I do wish this, Master.” Oppo paused then admitted more quietly, “I always have.”

Beneath his fingers, her ears shot straight up again. “Tell me that, you did not!”

He smiled, but there was sadness there. “I couldn’t have coped with it if you’d rejected me…and I knew that was what you would do.”

Yaddle sighed. “Right, you are, Padawan.” She tugged gently on the long strands of his beard as though they were a padawan braid. The sadness left his smile. “But reject you now, I will not.”

Neither of them resisted the Force as it swept them both up together, and the need for further words between them, save for what was spoken across their bond, ceased.

Eeth Koth was aware that both he and Depa were attempting not to die of shock as they watched Yaddle and Oppo.

Eeth shook his head. “There must be something in the alcohol. Of all the things I never expected to see in my life, that ranks very nearly at the top of the list.”

Depa smiled and then shrugged. “Agreed, but I can’t very well begrudge it to them. That’s the first time I can remember that I’ve ever seen either of them happy.”

Eeth smiled, shifting Depa closer to him as he unfastened his leggings, and she unfastened hers. They’d already discarded their robes, and Eeth was currently trying to decide which position would be best…until Depa took the decision away from him. In an instant, she was on his lap, and he was swallowed up inside her.

Depa’s smile became a smirk. “You were right, Eeth. There must be something in the alcohol.”

She pulled his head down to kiss him even as her hands trailed over his horns with more than a touch of the Force, and he realized there were more pleasant things to be concerned with.

Kit Fisto had always been a bold, brash sort of Jedi, and he had never pretended to be anything else. He loved pranks and humor and generally shaking things up, and he’d always been something of a headache on the Council, which was why Master Yoda had put him there in the first place.

That was also why Kit was wondering just how he’d gotten lucky enough to end up in Plo Koon’s arms. Plo was his exact opposite. Grave and solemn, a quiet, unassuming Jedi who frequently acted as the voice of mercy on the Council…Plo was everything that Kit wasn’t. But that hadn’t kept Kit from pining for the man and taking every opportunity he could to be with him…even if they happened to be sparring with rainbow toys.

Kit had figured he’d have a good time tonight as well as acquiring some blackmail material on his fellow Councilors. But he had not expected, three drinks later, to feel familiar arms around his waist and to hear Plo Koon whispering in his ear.

“Since it seems as though the Council has elected to ignore the Code for this night at least, I refuse to be left out.” He let a taloned hand trail down Kit’s shoulder. “If you are willing?”

Kit twisted around to look at Plo. “You don’t know how willing,” Kit assured him fervently. He gasped as Plo’s questing hands found their way to his head tails. With a flick of the Force, Plo had removed the leather bands that bound them back and was exploring them thoroughly, causing them to wriggle with delight under his ministrations even as Kit moaned.

By sheer will, Kit managed to surface from his pleasure enough to reach for Plo. Curiosity won out, and Kit reached for the oddly protruding appendages that surrounded Plo’s head. He stroked and caressed them gently, and then Plo was moaning too. With the help of the Force, Kit unfastened both their robes, and they broke apart only long enough to let them fall to the ground.

Plo collapsed in the nearest chair, pulling Kit down on his lap. “I believe I read somewhere that your species and mine are compatible.”

Kit laughed against his skin. “Shall we find out just how compatible we are?”

Obi-Wan lay on the couch with Bant sprawled over him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to look at the Council the same way again.”

She laughed. “Agreed. I am so happy that I’ve finally managed to give my master a taste of everything he missed out on.”

Obi-Wan giggled, enjoying the buzz of the alcohol. “He deserved it. The rest…well, the side benefits are certainly worth it.”

She smirked at him and wiggled into a better position. “Oh yeah, and for once, our masters can’t say a thing.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “And you are talking far too much. What can we do about that?”

All laughter was swallowed up in their mouths as their lips met.

“Is this what you wanted, Mace?” Qui-Gon asked, trailing his fingers idly down Mace’s bare skin.

Mace caught his fingers and drew then to his lips. “Everything and more,” he said softly. “I am so happy.” He looked around. “And I’m so glad that everyone else is happy too.”

Qui-Gon softly said, “Is there anything at all that would make you happier right now?”

Mace swallowed hard. “Can I keep you?”

Qui-Gon smiled, and Mace felt the pair bond between them bright and strong.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love,” Qui-Gon said, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs. “But in the meantime, are you ready for the next round?”

Mace smirked and let Qui-Gon swallow his reply.

Yoda caressed Dooku’s face, leaving Force trails of pleasure in his wake. Dooku smiled, reaching up to gently grasp the three fingers and kiss them languidly. Yoda smiled back.

“Happy are you, Padawan mine? Happy, our line is. Loved, our line is.” More softly, he continued. “Loved, you are.”

For a moment, Dooku blinked back tears. Only rarely did Yoda speak aloud what he felt for Dooku.

“I could not be happier, Master.” He drew the small body down to rest on his bare chest. “I love you too.” He kissed the alien yet beloved face, stroking his hands over alien yet beloved skin, and felt his master’s mind entwining with his to the point that it was impossible to tell where he ended and Yoda began.

Across their bond, he felt his master’s passion rising.

 _Again, Padawan?_ Yoda asked, and Dooku laughed.

_Again, Master. Always._


	9. What Love Did

**Disclaimer: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

**AN: This is the last chapter of this story. Thank you to everyone who read it, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

            They had elected to delay the Council meeting until the following evening. But when the Councilors, already fifteen minutes late, finally started to assemble, it became clear that they should have delayed the meeting another day. All of them looked decidedly sleepy, rather as if they had slept very little the night before. As it happened, that was true.

            There was also a definite air of defiance that came with them. Mace was actually the first Councilor to arrive, and he watched the arrival of the rest. That the entire Council had broken the Code the previous night was not up for debate. Mace and everyone at the party had witnessed it. But what Mace had not expected, at least of certain people, was that the attachments acknowledged last night would remain any longer than the intoxication did.

            Clearly, he had been wrong.

            Dooku and Yoda came in together, Dooku carrying Yoda, and Mace couldn’t help but smile at his master.

 _Do you intend to challenge the Council, Master?_ Dooku smiled.

 _What do you think, Padawan? They all know the truth now. They can deal with it as they see fit. But Yoda and I decided last night that we are not hiding anymore._ He leveled a glance at his padawan. _Mace, if they do have the audacity to expel us, Yoda and I will take our entire line to Serenno. However, I doubt that they will go that far._

            Mace smiled, wishing only that Qui-Gon could be here to see the meeting. The next pair to arrive were Depa and Eeth. They came in holding hands, deep in conversation. Depa saw Mace and smiled at him. Plo Koon and Kit Fisto came in next, arms around each other’s waists. Kit practically radiated joy, and Plo, definitely less reserved than usual, projected possessive affection.

            But the most unexpected entrance was Yaddle and Oppo Rancisis. Yaddle was actually allowing Oppo to carry her as he had last night, tucked securely in his tail. They were silent, but the way they were looking at each other made Mace wonder just how long the previous night’s activities had been brewing between them.

            Finally, the entire Council had arrived. A trifle sheepish, Yoda glanced around the room.

            “Perhaps discuss the bantha in the room, we should? Last night, all of us, the Code broke…unless wish to blame our actions on the alcohol, we do?” Yoda looked pointedly at each Councilor.

            Surprisingly, it was Yaddle who answered him. “My actions, not the fault of the alcohol they were. Choose them, I did.” She sighed. “Lonely, I was.” Then, she smiled at Oppo. “Lonely, I no longer am.”

            There were murmurs of agreement around the room. Clearly, now that everyone had gotten a taste of attachment, they were not inclined to give it up.

            Yoda smiled. “Spoken, the Force has, I think. Agree, you do?” Everyone nodded. “Then, consider changing the rule about attachment, we might?”

            An hour later, the rule had been unanimously altered in order to allow for attachments, even marriage and children, so long as each Jedi worked out a harmonious balance with their Jedi duties.

            And that was that. Oppo and Yaddle went to see to the announcement of the change to the entire Order. Meanwhile, Dooku, balancing Yoda on his hip, collected Mace and commed Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Bant as they headed to Yoda’s quarters.

            Mace smirked at his master and grandmaster. “So you two are not going to try and get out of your promise?”

            Dooku laughed. “Padawan, considering what the Council just agreed on, there is nothing I would refuse you right now. If a food fight is what you want, a food fight is what you’re going to get.”

            It didn’t take long before Mace, barefoot in nothing but leggings and tunic, was tipping bowls of chocolate caramel pudding over Dooku’s and Yoda’s heads.

            Mace laughed and said, “In my Trial vision, Master Shatel made me promise to dump a bowl of pudding over each of your heads. I hope he’s watching right now.”

            If Mace had turned around in that moment, he would have seen the faint image of his first master, Shatel, smiling broadly...just before he turned and disappeared.


End file.
